Big Shoes to Fill
by Waffles7
Summary: When Ruthie met Alfred F. Jones up near her parents' cabin, she thought he was an odd and overly friendly guy. She never considered that she would be replacing him as the New Representative for the United States of America. RussiaXOCXEngland Possibly other pairings.


A/N: I read this really good fanfiction last year called the New America by Sowelo, and I really liked the idea. My story will be going in a different direction, but I definitely wanted to give her credit for the awesome idea. I suggest checking it out. Also, going to try to keep this short because...ugh I am terrible with multichapters fanfictions.

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Prologue

Alfred's elbows rested on his knees as he sat on the bleachers overlooking the soccer field. His fingers ideally rolled his phone from one hand to the next as he watched the scrimmage game. He had been dreading this day for a long while now, not because of the implication of his actions, but he just never liked goodbyes. Goodbyes didn't settled well with him because a goodbye meant they would never see each other again, and well Alfred didn't believe that to be the case.

He continued to watch the game until he heard footsteps coming up the bleachers. He turned and caught sight of a slightly annoyed Englishman. He sat up straighter and then waved. "Hey! Artie! Up here!" he shouted with a bright grin. It was completely unnecessary because Alfred was currently the only person sitting in the empty seats, and that factor obviously didn't sit well with his father figure.

"Hush up, idiot. I can see you bloody fine as it is," Arthur remarked in a whispered shout, not wanting to interrupt the football game. He huffed as he climbed the stairs until reaching the boy's section and traversing across to sit next to him.

Alfred laughed at Arthur's irritability. He would definitely miss this, miss him. "Finally, dude. You took forever!" he patted him roughly on the back.

Arthur winced at the rough pat before attempting to brush him off. "You invite me to Colorado out of the blue yesterday! I had to fly a red-eye into Denver and rent a car to drive bloody two hours up into the mountains to Vail during summer tourist season and traffic, and you ask me what took forever!?" he snapped before rubbing sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose.

Alfred let out a light laugh. He supposed he made a good point, but he could feel it, it was time. He already had a serious one on one with Mattie a month ago. He could trust his brother with anything, especially with this. He had been sad and yet surprisingly supportive. His Boss came after, and he too expressed a sense of confusion, but understanding. Now, he had one more person to inform, by far the worse. He knew Arthur would eventually accept his decision, but unlike Mattie and his Boss it would likely take decades until the man came to terms with it.

"What are we doing at a high school girl football game?" he remarked annoyed, his arms now crossed over his chest.

"Not football, Artie! Soccer!" Alfred said in excitement, which only caused the Englishman to roll his eyes and give him a look that said get-to-the-point. Eh, he supposed he should just rip off the Band-Aid. He only wanted to spend a few more moments with Arthur with no stress or…tears. He pouted out his bottom lip in thought as his eyes fell back down to the field. He had to dive in, no reservations, not thought. He needed to spit it out. He took a deep breath. "Tomorrow, I'm not going to be the representation of the United States of America," he remarked calmly.

It became quiet except for those on the field shouting at one another as they passed the ball back and forth on the field. He took a nervous look at his father figure, expecting the worse. The man looked frozen in shock. His bushy eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, and then out of nowhere the man started to laugh. "Very funny, Alfred. I already had to deal with one your bloody April Fool's day pranks, you only get one of those a year. Not two," he said with a half laugh, a smile crossing his face.

Ah shit, this was going to be harder then he thought. He gave Arthur one of his serious look before sitting back up. "It's not a joke or a prank," he stated, "Tomorrow, I will not be the United States of America. I'll be average plain joe Alfred F. Jones."

Arthur's laughter stopped, and once again the confused look returned. "What the bloody hell are you talking about? You can't merely decide not to be a nation anymore, Alfred. It's not how it works," the man said annoyed with him.

Alfred gave him a sad smile. He wouldn't say he decided to stop, or maybe he did. He wasn't sure anymore how much of it was fate and how much was actual choice. "I don't think any of us knows exactly how it works," he remarked softly, the crisp mountain air touching his cheek. It calmed him. It felt right. "I'm not certain if you've noticed, but for the past eighteen years, I just haven't felt right," he started. He hadn't shared this with anyone, not even Mattie, but he knew if he didn't tell Arthur the man would never believe him. "I always wanted to be better, do more, and be the best in the world. I wanted to be the best nation, but for the past two decades…I haven't…" he paused and swallowed, it was hard to admit.

His eyes fell back to the game. He didn't want to look at Arthur's judgement. "I haven't really cared. All I've wanted to do was have my own life and not have the responsibilities of the world on my shoulder. I think it's shown too. Someone managed to attack me, I dragged myself into two wars and didn't put my full effort into winning them, the Financial Crisis, the growing sense of partisanship, my inaction in Libya, Syria, and Ukraine, my inability to place China in check as he attempts to expand into the Chinese Sea. I thought…I thought…maybe it was a change of attitude in my people. You know as well as me how your people can affect your moods and personality. I see the world falling apart, and I just don't care. It's their problem, not mine. It was so selfish of me and unheroic. I became depressed, and yet for some reason it felt like I was supposed to feel that way. I didn't feel wrong for it. I just knew that something was coming, something in my gut told me I'm going down this path. It was the same feeling I had in my gut when I choose between you and France. I knew. I knew I needed to go to you. No reasoning behind it. I needed to go to you."

He fiddled with his hands as he continued to watch the game trapped in his own memories. A slow smile grew on his face. "And then I met this pretty girl in Arlington," he laughed to himself, "I wouldn't say meet, more like ran right into her, knocking us both straight to the ground. I apologized immediately and helped her up, and when our eyes met it felt like a rush. I became myself again. I laughed, and she teased me. I started proclaiming to be a hero, and she made a comment that if I was a hero, I would save her from an encounter with her ex-boyfriend." He laughed again and took a quick glance back at Arthur. The man still had that same frozen expression on his face as if he was trying to digest all of what he was saying. He turned away again, "I've been seeing her a year now. We are living together, and I'm going to propose tomorrow."

"WHAT?!" Arthur finally snapped, "You can't marry a human, Alfred! They age, they die! You do not. Yes, we all fall for one. I know you had interest in your Amelia Earhart for a while, but you know to keep those relationships casual. You are a nation!"

Alfred sighed. "You are not understanding, Arthur. I am a nation today, but tomorrow I won't be."

"Stop with this nonsense this instant!" Arthur growled, and Alfred sat up again.

He knew it would be harder to convince Arthur. He knew he wouldn't understand, and even if he did, he wouldn't accept it. He adjusted himself on the bench, pulling one leg up and over it, so he straddled the seat facing Arthur. "It's going to happen, Arthur. Neither of us have a choice. It will happen," he stated, locking his eyes with his green ones, "You think I am delusional, but you know as well as I that this is not the first time this happened to a nation. I did my research. I spoke with China, not that he understood why I was asking, but he gave me great insight. I asked if a nation representative had ever changed." His eyes did not leave his mentor's. He could see wetness had started to form with him. Ah, that's what he thought. Arthur had seen this before. He continued none the less, "As always, China wasn't the most forth coming with information, but he eventually told me that yes, it has happened." He coughed into his hand to adjust his vocal cords to do the best China expression he could, "It has occurred. I have seen it with my own eyes. I suspect you know of the Roman Empire. The Italian brothers like to call him Grandpa Rome, but they had only known the man for a week before he stepped down from his status. The Italian brothers were not Italy when he stepped down, they were still Rome. Roman people who eventually became Italian people. Egypt. Greece. Iran. They all had previous representatives and one day it changed." Alfred adjusted his voice back, "I asked him why. Why would that happen? Why would there be any need for a new one in some nations and other nations can last thousands of years with only one?" he smiled softly, "You know what he said, Artie? He said…nations are like candles and some of their flames burn brighter than others. Those bright flames captivate us, intrigue us, and burn us, yet in the process their flame melts the candle stick they sit on until there is nothing more than wax."

He laughed, "It's such a China thing to say." He kept looking at Arthur. The poor man looked devastated; tears were silently streaming down his cheek. He reached out and took his hand, giving it a supportive squeeze. "I didn't want to believe him, but my gut told me he was right. In less than three centuries I have done more than nations that have been around for thousands of years. I burned bright. I was the fucking brightest country in the world," he laughed again, softer, "Except even then I didn't want to believe him. I didn't want to believe I was happier with a mortal woman, getting coffee, talking about the latest movies, and seeing baseball games on the weekend than I was spending time with my family.

"Three months ago, I got this huge urge to come to Colorado, which made no sense, ski season had just wrapped up and none of the trails would be open to hiking. I was like hell why not. I need to go. I purchased a ticket, rented a Jeep and started heading up into the mountains to do who knows what. I found myself heading up to Grand Mesa, a place I hadn't been in decades. A few feet of snow still layered the area, and the lakes were still frozen over. I parked my jeep in the lot and sit there. I couldn't drive any further. All the Cabins out there are only reachable during the winter by Snow-cat, snowmobile, or snowshoeing. I started to laugh, having no idea why the hell I am up there. I am about to start my car back up before sunsets when a truck towing a couple snowmobiles pulled up beside me. The back door swung open and out popped two big dogs, and a teenaged girl.

"It all clicked, Arthur. It all made sense. Why I had been feeling the way I have for the past eighteen years, meeting the love of my life by complete luck, finding a need to go to Colorado. It all made sense because I knew instantly that the girl that stepped out of the truck was a nation, not just any nation, the United States of America." He paused, "And as you and I both know…there can only be one representative for each nation."

He took in Arthur's expression. The man was practically sobbing. Tears slide down his face, as the man brought his fist up to his mouth, trying to hold back any sounds. He shook his head slowly before it became faster and faster. "No, Alfred," he choked out, "I won't allow it." Tears continued, and he choked for air. It broke his heart to see him so upset. He knew he should have told him earlier, but he knew the man would be heartbroken. He didn't want to spend his last couple months with the nation he considered a father crying.

He shifted closer and pulled him into a tight hug. "It's alright. It will be alright. I promise ya that," he said softly.

Arthur broke away from him. His eyes turned sharp. "Don't say that! It will not be! I didn't know Rome well, but I heard what happened. One day he woke up, and he remembered nothing! Nothing of his time as a nation! He remembered the last couple decades, but his mind had warped the memories to him being average Roman citizen. In his mind, he was never a nation. You want me to accept that for you!? No! No bloody way! I don't want you….you're going to forget me," he started to cry more. His head fell into Alfred's shoulder as he sobbed.

Alfred ran his hand softly along his back. He spoke to the Italian brothers after he met the new representative of the United States. He asked about Rome, and they had already told him what happened. One day he was a nation. The next he wasn't, but the one thing he remembered the most, is that even though Rome wasn't the nation, the brother's said he never looked happier. He lived a long life, had many children and grandchildren, and was loved deeply by his entire family. To Alfred…it sounded like the perfect life, but he would be lying if he said he would not miss Arthur and Mattie. "I could never forget you Arthur," He pulled partially away and leaned his forehead against his. "My mind might, but my heart," he took hold of his hand and brought it to his chest, "You help make me into the man I am today. If not for you, I would not be where I am. You will always be here. You will always be with me in that sense."

Arthur's face was scrunched painfully together as he continued to shake his head, and it saddened him. "Arthur, it can't be changed, and even if it could, I don't think I want it to," he said and wiped the tears across his cheek, "I do want to spend my last day as a nation with you, and well if you want spend it crying we can do that, but hell, Artie, we are in the Rocky Mountains, we should do something fun!"

Arthur pulled away from him and wiped his face. "I don't see how you can be so happy about this," he snapped, as he tried to sort out his emotions.

He gave him his hundred dollar smile. "It feels right, and it feels good. I know you're hurting right now, but please, come to my wedding, well if she says yes tomorrow," he laughed, "I think I'm going to be really happy. I can't explain it, but I'm excited. I only wished I could keep you and Mattie, but I know I can't. It's the sacrifice."

Arthur snorted, "It's the stupidest idea. We should find a way to stop it. Let me call China and talk to him." He pulled out his phone to do just that, but Alfred put his hand on top of his.

"Arthur, there is nothing you can do. Instead of spending this day trying to change something that cannot change, spend it with me," he said softly.

Arthur didn't respond at first. He wiped his eyes again and took a deep breath. "Fine," he said softly, not looking at Alfred.

"Awesome!" Alfred cheered, "But first, there is someone you need to meet."

Arthur grunted, and continued to wipe the tears from his eyes to be more presentable. The soccer game had finally wrapped up, and the Englishman now realized why his presence had been requested here. It caused a sharp weighted pain in his chest. No, it all had to be a silly game. Alfred was too young, far too young for this transition. It made no sense, and yet it did, and for that he hated it all the more. It felt like once more he faced him in the Revolutionary War, as if the man purposefully wished to pull his entire being away from him. Deep breaths, he reminded himself. He would find a way to fix this. He would. It would take time, many months likely, but he would find away. He would be strong for Alfred today, but tomorrow he would get to work. His studies in the black arts would come to his benefit.

"Which one is she?" he asked in a monotone voice, suspecting it might have been the blonde one who kept scoring the multiple goals. He could feel Alfred grinning next to him as he went to point at the person he claimed to be taking his spot. His eyesight followed the direction until landing at a girl in the goalie box. He automatically did not like her, and he knew the feeling was unjustified, but how could he be expected to like the person that was killing Alfred?

The coach whistled and the group came in for a huddle. "I think you are going to like her, Artie. She's definitely a don't take shit type of girl," Alfred commented as the group finished their powwow. Arthur doubted he would. No matter who she was, she would never be Alfred.

The girls started to disperse, and Alfred stood up straighter waving at the one who had been in the goal box. For some reason, he thought she might look like Alfred, but that was hardly the case. She had her brown hair pulled back into a pony-tail and bangs over her forehead, ending right at her large bright light green eyes that reminded him of a field of corn. He shook the thought away not wanting to relate any of her to the nation. Her skin had the same sun touched tone that Alfred's had….and she had his smile. Bloody hell, they were attempting to torture him. She climbed up the stairs. "Al, only an idiot like you comes to Vail to watch a soccer practice," her eyes rolled into the air, but there was obvious humor in her voice.

He let out a laugh, "I told you I wanted you to meet someone. It's not my fault you decided to be particularly busy on the day he came." He felt Alfred and the girl both look at him, and the weight of what was occurring started to settle on top of him like a suffocating blanket.

"This is my English friend, Arthur Kirkland," Alfred started, grabbing Arthur and pulling him up from the bleacher to stand. Arthur's legs felt weak. "Arthur, this is Ruth . Ruthie for short," Alfred opened his hand out to her. Arthur's throat felt thick as he stared at her with wide eyes. He could sense it, sense what Alfred had been talking about. He could feel the power of the United States of America rolling off of her like an intense aura he had only felt from Alfred, and yet when he glanced at Alfred now…he did not feel it on him…not anymore. The girl had stolen his strength.

"Nice to meet you, Arthur," she held out her hand with an overly friendly smile.

Arthur didn't want to, but he always considered himself a gentleman. "Nice to meet you, Ruthie," he reached out and took her hand.

It felt like a jolt had of recognition had hit him at the touch. It made him sick because there was very little he could argue with. He could see her expression change as well into confusion and then she let out a soft laugh, "Is it weird that I want to call you, England?"

The weight became too much. The reality of what was happening. His little boy. His poor little boy. His breathing became panic, and his eyes started to fog. He assumed this must be what a panic attack must feel like. He did not have time to analyze it because he felt faint and unstable. He stumbled a step back, and before he could prevent himself, he fell back, unconsciousness leaving him as he hit the bleachers roughly.


End file.
